Having been raised in the “Steel City,” the only red skies I knew growing up were filled with the red dust of the steel mills. The first time I saw a real sunset was as an adult visiting the Jersey Shore. From that day on. I was hooked. Any chance I got to see a sunset, I was there. Recently, I returned from a trip to the Finger Lakes in upstate NY. It was our last day and we had plans to visit one of the lakes so my granddaughters could go swimming. Unfortunately the weather did not cooperate and left us with a cloudy, windy day. We switched to Plan B which was also nice but we were still a little disappointed. Part of our plan involved some sight seeing and shopping at an Amish Market (and yes, we did buy some Whoopie pies). After that we went back to the farm where we were staying so the girls could visit the barn animals one more time. The day before we were talking to another guest and they raved about the beautiful sunsets they had seen there. I had hoped we would see one that last night, but as I said before, the weather didn't look promising. In order to get to the barn, we had to walk out to a gravel road beyond the trees and down the hill. As we stepped out onto the road, I was happy to see the sun peeking through the clouds. I watched the sun turn that sliver of sky into shades or orange and pink and I was thankful for the view. When we reached the bottom of the hill, my daughter and the girls went to the barn but I stood in the road admiring the sky before me one more time. I walked over to the barn briefly but I'm not a fan of goats and chickens roaming loose, so when they decided to come visit me, I decided it was time for me to leave. I took another route back to our room which involved walking through a grassy field. I was half the way up when something told me to turn around. What I saw made my mouth drop and I did an about face and almost ran back to the road (notice I said. ‘almost’ ran.”) In the short time I had walked through the field, the sky had changed dramatically and had opened up to show the glory of its Creator. There in front of me were brilliant hues of pink, orange, red and purple. They bounced off every cloud and filled the sky. In all my years of sunsets, I had never witnessed one like this. I stood taking pictures until it disappeared. As I walked back to my room, I asked God how that happened. I felt as if He did it for me just to see the delight on my face. The following Sunday, I went to my church and the Pastor used this quote in his sermon. “Red skies at night. A sailor's delight.” He said he had met a naval man traveling on the same airplane. They saw a beautiful sunset to which the man had mentioned the quote. When I came home, the quote and the sunset kept coming back to me so I did a little research. To sum it up, a red sky at night can signify that a storm has passed and is no longer a threat. That spoke to me. My life has been a series of storms. Lately, a big one has been raging at hurricane proportions. I have prayed, I have cried and have been full of fear for the outcome. That sunset gave me peace. God is a merciful God. He reminded me, once again, that He was with me in the storm and even if I'm not seeing the red skies of night, it doesn't change the fact they are coming. Lord, right now the storm is raging. I need You. Help me to keep my eyes on You. You are with me and You always have been. Guard my heart and help me keep my eyes on You. Thank you for the beautiful red sky that gave me hope again.

Are you one of those people who like to read the end of the story before finishing the book? This morning I've been sitting here feeling overwhelmed by life. There are things that are out of my control and a lot of uncertainty. For someone who likes to have a plan, it's my worst nightmare. God's word says that He finishes what He starts and He will complete the good work in me (Philippians 1:6 NIV). I struggle with that when I can't see the finish line. God's word also says He's the Alpha and the Omega which means He is the beginning and the end (Rev 22:13 NIV). To me, that means that He sees it all. He knew where I would be on any given day. He knew my circumstances before I did, but unlike me, He's not worrying and overcome with anxiety because He sees the end. So, once again, I have a choice to make. I can sit here overwhelmed because I can't see the way out, or, I can trust the One who can. Will I choose hope or despair? This leads me to faith which is choosing to believe even though we can't see the outcome. I had to ask myself where I was putting my faith. Hope and faith work together. No amount of striving can earn them. Each one of us has access to them. All we have to do is ask the One who freely gives. Jesus, I know you've written my story and You know how it ends. Everything in this life is temporary. Even though I can't see the end, help me to rest in the fact that You do and I can trust You with my life.

A few weeks ago I shared about my estranged child. Mother's Day came and went without a word. I spent the day wondering/hoping I would hear something. I didn't expect a phone call but maybe a text. I told myself not to have any expectations, but I still did. I was almost angry at myself for thinking maybe this year would be different. This morning I sat here talking to the Lord. He wants me to be honest with Him so I didn't try to hide the sorrow and the rejection. I told Him I was hurt and I had to forgive my child once again. He reminded me that I had three other children who hadn't forgotten me and made me feel loved and honored, so why was the rejection of one so painful? It was then I remembered the story of the lost sheep. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, it's about a shepherd who has a flock of a hundred sheep. One of them goes astray and the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to go find it. It was a gentle reminder that He will never give up on my child and He loves Him more than I could imagine. In the same way, God will never give up on any of us. No matter how much we run or push Him away, He will never leave us. I needed that encouragement, maybe you do too.

For those of you who have a prodigal child, you're not alone. What I mean by prodigal is a child who has turned their back on you and put up walls of defense. It came as a surprise, a shock actually. I should've seen it coming but after years of butting heads, I truly thought we were in a better place. The revelation came in a letter where thoughts and feelings were shared. I felt my spirit being crushed as I read it and my heart broke. I know I wasn't the perfect mother. I had struggles and behaviors that had followed me since childhood. I had resolved never to treat my children the way I was treated, but how many of us know that sadly it still happens, but in a different way. When you have a prodigal, it's not about forgiveness and reconciliation, it's about the pain they feel we've inflicted and they can't let go of it. I keep hoping that some day, things will change but there's no guarantee as it takes two surrendered hearts that are open to be healed. It's been four years now since I received that letter. I have grieved in a way I never have before and there were times I didn't think I would make it through. It's a different kind of grief because you know it can change but it's out of your control. It's been a process and I've experienced rejection, abandonment, guilt and shame but it brought me to a place where I knew it was going to keep me in a prison of pain if I didn't surrender it to God so He could heal my heart. The Bible has a story about a prodigal son. Even though the son went his own way and abandoned his father, his father never gave up hope. When the son had an “aha” moment and realized how foolish he had been, he humbled himself and returned home. This is my favorite of the story: “So he got up and went to his father. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 NIV” This is how God greets everyone who returns to Him, no matter what they've done. I pray I would react the same way with my son. If you have a prodigal, my heart goes out to you, but just know that God sees you and your child. He is working behind the scenes as He is a God of redemption and reconciliation. He will heal your broken heart and give you the strength to hold on.

Today I had an errand to do on the other side of town. When I left my house, it was warm and sunny. As I drove toward my destination, I noticed dark, gray clouds up ahead. I had no idea it was supposed to rain. Thankfully I was in the store when the storm rolled in. It was literally a downpour complete with thunder and lightning. I remember thinking I wouldn't be going to my car any time soon. Unfortunately the extended time in the store resulted in some overspending. As I stood in the checkout line. I overheard one of the cashiers say. “I love thunderstorms.” As a child, I loved them too, especially if I was already tucked in bed for the night. I can't explain it but that was the time I felt the most safe. There was something peaceful amidst all the noise. I still feel the same way. Tonight another thunderstorm rolled in. The weather forecast said it could be severe with high winds. I wasn't afraid. In fact. If it wasn't so early, I would've jumped into bed. I had to ask myself why I felt such peace during a storm. I never really thought about it before. Was it the fact I knew that despite all the drama and noise, it would eventually come to an end? It's something I need to think about because my attitude is quite the opposite with the storms of life. I've spent most of my life just trying to survive the storms. Sometimes I've denied them, other times I've tried to run from them and there were times I tried to hide from them but each time, they stopped or moved on. I feel like I'm in a place right now where I need a reminder of safety even in the midst of a storm. Jesus wasn't afraid of the storm, He went right into it and walked on water. Peter got out of the boat and started walking toward him but as soon as he got distracted by the waves and the noise, he started to sink and fear tried to take over. Jesus was still there and when Peter cried out to Him, Scripture says Jesus immediately reached out and grasped Peter's hand and Peter was safe. So Jesus, the storm is raging all around. I'm reaching out to You. I've gotten distracted Lord. I need You. Make me aware when I'm sinking and meet me in the waves for You are my help and You are enough.

Valentine's Day has always been my favorite holiday. I remember walking past the candy shop in town as a child and seeing all the beautiful heart boxes in the window. One box always caught my eye. It was a huge red heart at least two feet long. It was covered with red silk roses and a red frilly ribbon around the edge. To me it was a symbol of love. I dreamed of the day someone would give it to me. I met the love of my life unexpectedly. He was the kindest, most loving man I ever knew. Not only did he love me, he loved me unconditionally. This was a new concept for me. I was used to giving something to get something, but with him, I didn't have to give anything. He gave of himself and didn't expect anything in return. He showed me what true love was all about. He showed me God's love. We celebrated many Valentine's Days together. There were years we didn't have two nickels to rub together and he would make me handmade cards and paint wooden hearts red with a gold, glittery “I Love You” written on the front. There was one year when the single ladies from our church volunteered to watch the kids so the moms and dads could have a night out. We didn't have the money to do anything fancy so we picked up a meal from Boston Market and went back to our “empty” house. We watched a movie, uninterrupted, and then put on some music and spent time slow dancing. It was my favorite Valentine's Day of all time. When I think back to that time of walking past the candy store, I realized I didn't need a fancy red heart to make me feel loved. I received all the love I could have ever imagined from a man who made me cards and danced with me around the family room. What I've learned is I can still have my dreams but if it doesn't work out the way I thought, God has something better, and if I can lean into that and trust Him, it'll be more than enough because He is enough. Happy Valentine's Day!

I was married to a fisherman, an avid fisherman. Almost as soon as we were engaged, he was planning our dream honeymoon on the shores of Chandos Lake in Canada. He was eight years old when his parents bought property around the lake and built a log cabin. He spent every summer there and that's where his love of fishing began. Whether he was standing on the shore or in a boat on the water, he spent countless hours doing what he loved. I'll never forget that first week. I knew I was in trouble the minute we arrived. There were two ways to get to the cabin. One was by boat (which we were towing), or maneuvering our car around boulders on a dirt road. We docked the boat at a small marina and drove to the cabin. I have to admit, my first view of the cabin was breathtaking. It was situated on a point where a bay joined the main part of the lake. Inside there was a wood burning stove and blue gingham curtains hung on the windows. My one challenge was the lack of indoor plumbing. I have to admit I was horrified when he threw a hose into the lake and connected it to a pump! We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in. It wasn't until the next morning I realized my husband's love for fishing was more like an addiction. I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. As a new bride, I was adjusting to the joy of waking up to find the man I loved lying beside me, only this day, there was no man. Instead I found a note and a foghorn. Unbeknownst to me, he had risen before sunrise and headed out on the lake. The note he left simply said, “Went fishing. Stand on the shore and blow the fog horn and I'll come in. I love you!” Needless-to-day, I was not impressed; however, he was a man of his word and came in when I blew the foghorn. I had never been one for the great outdoors so I had to make a decision. I finally decided, “if you can't beat em, join em.” This involved learning how to fish. The first step was going to the bait shop. I couldn't even imagine touching anything slimy so when my eyes landed on some black, rubber worms, with hot pink tails, I told myself, “You can do this!” My husband laughed and shook his head but with my rubber worms in hand, we headed out to the lake. Step two involved learning how to cast. The better the cast, the more chance of success…or so I was told. My husband happily shifted into teaching mode and explained the finer art of casting. It's definitely not as easy as it looks. It took technique and focus but equally important was knowing where to cast. After several attempts, I made a successful cast. Now the hard part…the waiting! It was during the waiting that I heard the story of “the big one that got away.” Apparently there was a large mouth bass that was bigger than the rest. He was the Grandpappy of the lake and many had tried and failed to conquer him. I don't remember if it was this first fishing trip or the next but all I know is the fish were biting and I started reeling them in with my black rubber worms. Once again, God was in control. We had been out there a little while so it would soon be time to call it a day. Suddenly there was a tug on my line. It didn't feel the same as the others. This was a big one. He gave me quite a fight and I was screaming my head off while my husband grabbed a net. As I reeled in my catch, we could hardly believe it. I had caught the Grandpappy with a rubber worm! Needless-to-say, I gloated after the shock wore off. One other thing I learned with casting my line was the importance of adding a weight near the hook. The weight enables the hook to sink below the surface enabling the success of the catch. It's the same when we cast our cares on the Lord. It's about giving him not only the situation, but the weight of it that we are not meant to carry. He says it in His Word: Psalms 55:22 NIV Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. Today I found myself casting and recasting. Some things are harder to let go of than others, but as I kept giving it to him, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders My prayer went something like this. “Lord, I need You to help me. This is a big one. It runs deep. I don't want to hold onto it and I'm casting it on you.” Even though the situation didn't change, it felt different. There was peace in the waiting. One last thing…the next time we went to the bait shop, guess who bought some black rubber worms?

My children grew up knowing what it meant to do without, especially the older two. We were on a strict grocery budget of $50 a week for a family of six. We didn't have money for snacks and treats but we never went hungry. There were times they had holes in their shoes and their boots leaked so we put plastic bags on their feet so they could go out and play in the snow. We did the best with what we had and I'd like to think my kids grew stronger because of it. The Bible says the apostle Paul learned to be content whether he had little or plenty. We tried to hold onto that. We experienced many miracles over the years in our times of need. I call them miracles because they came at just the right moment and sometimes with no explanation. One of those miracles came on Christmas Eve. I don't remember the year but I know my children were young. It had been a hard year financially as my husband was in and out of work. As Christmas drew near, our parents sent some money for presents and I was thankful but my mother's heart longed to give them more. On this particular Christmas Eve, I had put the kids to bed. The tree was up, cookies were baked and now it was just a matter of waiting. The only lights on in the house were that of our Christmas tree. It was calm and peaceful. It was then I heard a knock on the door. I wondered who it could be at that time of the night. When I opened the door, no one was there. The only thing I saw were shopping bags filled with presents. I was so surprised that it took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream. There was a shopping bag for each child. As I placed the gifts under the tree, I was filled with awe at the generosity. I don't have to tell you of the joy on their faces the next morning when they saw all the presents under the tree. Several years later I found out who blessed my family that Christmas Eve. It was a woman who knew someone in our church. She wanted to bless someone at Christmas and she was given our name. It turned out, she ran to the side of the house after knocking on our door and watched as I saw the gifts and brought them inside. I don't know if she ever realized what her kindness meant to us. If you'd ask any of my children today about those times we were blessed by others, they'd remember. It wasn't many years later that my children lost their Dad. He died in November and the holidays were upon us. Many of our family traditions were based on his love of Christmas. They seemed empty without him. When we were first married, we started a tradition of helping at least one person at Christmas time, even if it was a plate of homemade cookies. We carried on that tradition as our family grew and now we were faced with our first Christmas without him. As I remembered the joy of giving and receiving over past Christmases, I made a decision that we would carry on our family tradition. There were years we chose a family and bought gifts. There were years we went to nursing homes on Christmas morning with gifts and cookies to spend time with those who were lonely. Those were the best Christmases we ever had. The one question I've asked myself is, “Is it better to give or receive?” When we give without expecting anything in return, there's a joy like none other that pierces our soul and brings goodness and mercy to the surface. When we are on the receiving end, we feel seen and cared for and loved. So I encourage you to give and receive this Christmas for isn't that what it's all about? John 3:16 NIV “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I had always looked forward to being a grandmother. Both of mine passed away before I was born and I couldn't wait to have my own. When my oldest granddaughter was three years old, we started a tradition. I took her to The Nutcracker Ballet every Christmas. I would buy her a fancy dress and it became an annual date that we both loved. At first it was just the two of us but over the years it grew as we added cousins and friends. It was always a special time. Two years ago, all of my granddaughters moved down south. As Christmas approached, my heart was heavy as I realized this tradition had come to an end. I struggled with this realization and I had to examine my heart to find out why the grief was so strong. The answer came as a surprise. I thought the real reason was about not wanting to accept change and letting go of tradition but underneath it all was a fear of being forgotten. I was afraid if I couldn't carry on the tradition then some day after I was gone, the memory of me would fade away. I wanted my life to mean something to someone. I wanted to be remembered. I want to leave a legacy but I had to ask myself if it is more important that they remember me or what I stood for? Do I want them to just remember the places we went and the things we did or do I want them to remember they saw Jesus in me and they were loved, valued and accepted. That's the truth and that's what I hope they remember. I'm thankful to say this story has an unexpected happy ending. Today I had the pleasure of taking my daughter and all three granddaughters to The Nutcracker. It was a miracle how it all worked out as we all live in different states. I don't know if we'll be able to go again next year but I'm not going to worry about it. All I know is a lost dream was restored and I have a different perspective. My oldest granddaughter is now 11 and takes ballet. I watched her face as she watched the performance. There was an understanding now of hard work and commitment. She has a love and a passion that was planted when she was a little girl. This tradition isn't about me. It's about planting love and goodness and hope into future generations. I told her if she ever dances in The Nutcracker, I'll be there.